by Chloe Carley
Thomas’ eyes glinted in the candlelight. “I have no idea what you are referring to, captain. Are you suggesting that a man such as myself has a hand in the slave trade? You know very well that I indulge in a spot of trading here and there but only in silks and spices. I leave the rest to the social climbers.”
“Do not play the fool with me, Lord Thomas. Where is my recompense? I delivered forty bodies to you as requested. I will not leave this place until I have what I have come for. You will not deprive me.” Benjamin’s raised voice drew the attention of the other men in the room.
Noah turned to look at them, realizing that they were all armed to the teeth—daggers clung to belts while clubs and knives rested on the tables before them. Noah frowned. Something is not right here. Beneath the turned-up collar of an oilskin coat, much too warm for weather such as this, he noticed the flash of a brass button.
“It is a trap, Benjamin,” he whispered. “These men belong to Lord Thomas.”
“I will have my recompense!” Benjamin shouted, slamming his fists into the table.
“No, my dear captain, you will not,” Thomas replied. “I thank you for your kind gift. They shall sell rather nicely in the Americas, I am sure. Call it a professional courtesy – a donation – to repent for all the years of smuggling you have indulged in and all the trade ships you have sunk to the bottom of the ocean in the process. You are little more than a pirate, Captain Frodsham, and should be treated as such.”
Out of the corner of Noah’s eye, he watched the men begin to move into action stations. There were at least twelve, each of them wielding two or more daggers apiece. If he and Benjamin remained, he knew there was no way they would emerge with their hearts still beating and their bodies intact. Ah, Benjamin, it looks as though we are running for our lives again…
Wasting no time, Noah grasped Benjamin by the scruff of his collar and hauled him out of the seat, shoving him towards the door of the ramshackle public house. Immediately, Thomas’ undercover minions launched themselves into battle, blades flashing and roars resounding between the four grimy walls as they clawed to get hold of Benjamin. Noah didn’t bother to remove his sword from its sheath as he turned and ran, dragging Benjamin along with him.
“Let me go!” the captain snapped. “I must have my money.”
“Leave your money!” Noah barked back. “If you go back there, they’ll kill us both. You have lost this one, my friend. I am sorry for that.” Considering where the money was supposed to have come from, Noah found he was not even remotely sorry. In fact, part of him was glad. Had a horde of men not been chasing them around the harbor wall at that very moment, he might have rejoiced in the trick that had left Benjamin empty-handed. As it was, he realized he would have to do that later.
Eventually, Benjamin seemed to understand that his life was worth more than some lost funds. He picked up speed, giving Noah the freedom to run at full-pelt towards the Emerald. With the shouting men still sprinting at their backs, the duo thundered down the wharf towards the waiting ship.
“Lift the gangway!” Noah bellowed as they neared.
The sailors onboard looked out in surprise, a cry of alarm going up. Clearly, they had not expected their captain to be hurtling down the wharf towards them with a group of uniformed men giving chase. A few of the loitering whalers attempted to reach out and snatch at the two of them as they passed, though the grog had made their coordination fuzzy. Noah was glad of that as he slipped from the grasp of an enormous man with a chest the size of an ale barrel.
“Lift the gangway!” Noah roared again. This time, they listened.
They charged the last few yards pounding onto the gangplank just as it was being raised by the sailors on-board the Emerald. Benjamin looked like he was about to topple over into the water, the unsteady plank knocking him off balance as it lifted into the air. With lightning reflexes, Noah reached out and gripped the captain’s jacket in his hand, steadying them both.
Reaching the deck of the ship, Noah turned around to look at the soldiers standing on the very end of the wharf. Some picked up rocks and bits of debris, hurling them at the side of the ship as it drifted away. Others simply stared, their eyes narrowed in bitter disappointment.
“Well, that was close,” Benjamin wheezed, clapping Noah on the back.
Yeah, a little too close, Noah thought angrily. This was the last time he’d ever let Benjamin Frodsham send him into the jaws of death. Indeed, he refused to work for a slaver no matter what kind of wages were on offer. As soon as they docked in the Americas, that was it. No more. He wasn’t sure where he’d go when they landed, but he knew one thing for absolute certain… he was never going back to this life.
Chapter Sixteen
“Is something the matter?” Rachel asked as Noah went to visit her in the Empire Suite. The Emerald had been sailing away from Cape Verde for the last few hours, but he’d only just recovered from the ordeal. He did not want to alarm Miss Faulks with his own bedraggled state, not if he could help it. The entire incident had been much too close of a scrape for his comfort. Even now, Thomas St. Vincent weighed heavy on his mind. A man such as that would not take kindly to being outrun.
“Not at all, Miss Faulks,” he replied calmly. “I simply wished to ensure that you were well. Do you require anything? Is Nan faring better? I hear from Doctor Bentham that she is firmly on the mend, though she shall require more saltwater baths to ease the pressure in her lungs.”
Rachel nodded. “She is more like her usual self, though she is presently sleeping. She seems to do that a great deal at the moment. I only hope that it means she is healing and is not a sign of something worse. Truthfully, I have been praying for her recovery at all hours of the day.”
“I am certain it does mean she is getting better, Miss Faulks. Sleep is God’s greatest medicine.”
“Did anything occur on the island? I did not see much, but your return seemed rather hasty.”
“A slight altercation over some cargo,” Noah replied. “Nothing to worry yourself over.”
“That is excellent news indeed. Truly, after what you told me of that place, I feared the worst might have happened.”
“I shall leave you in peace, Miss Faulks. Please give my fondest wishes to Nan when she awakes.”
She smiled at him, a softness in her dark eyes. “I shall, Mr. Sharpleton.”
With that, he turned and left the front door of the Empire Suite. He wandered across the top deck, peering up at the sailors in the rigging. They were far more active than they ought to have been, considering the ship was taking a direct course. Indeed, the wind seemed to have changed, pushing against the sails in a different direction. They flapped wildly against the masts as though the ship was cutting across the grain of the fearsome Atlantic breeze.
Realization struck Noah as he hurried on toward the captain’s quarters. Frodsham was up to no good again, he could sense it. I wish you would not do this, Frodsham. This course of action is entirely nonsensical. Noah rapped on the door of the captain’s quarters and waited impatiently for a response. It came a moment or two later, Benjamin Frodsham’s voice echoing from within.
“Come in,” he instructed.
Noah pushed open the door and stepped into the gloom. A fire flickered in the grate, but the curtains were drawn. Benjamin sat at the low table by the hearth with Garrick and another sailor named Samson sitting opposite him. Noah glanced at Garrick in surprise. He had presumed that the cretin would have lost his title of first mate after the debacle with Rachel. Judging by the small group’s suspicious expressions and low voices, he understood that he had been wrong. Garrick had crossed a line, but Benjamin relied on him. Not even threatening the precious cargo of Miss Rachel Faulks could make that vile beast fall from grace on the Emerald. It riled Noah up to realize the truth in the matter.
“What is it, Noah?” Benjamin asked curtly.
“Have we changed course, captain?” he replied. “Only, I have not seen the Emerald pass through the othe
r islands. Indeed, it would appear we have bypassed them entirely.”
Benjamin nodded. “We have.”
“Might I ask why, when it is a direct path from Cape Verde to the Americas?”
“After the unfortunate events that happened at Praia, I had to reassess our situation.” He glanced at Garrick and Samson, evidently eager to have their support if Noah decided to cause a fuss. They nodded subtly, sending a shudder of fear up Noah’s spine. He had witnessed the mysterious loss of men on ships like this with sailors disappearing in the night after daring to speak up against the captain’s orders. They were never to be seen or heard from again. If Noah did not tread carefully he worried that he might end up in the same predicament.
He did not fear for himself, per se, but for Rachel. If he vanished in the night, she would be left to the wolves who remained on this ship. He would not allow that to happen even if it meant holding his tongue when he longed to speak of what was troubling his mind.
“Reassess it, captain?”
Benjamin smiled coolly. “Ships were spotted leaving Praia harbor shortly after we did. We do not know if they belong to Thomas St. Vincent, but I cannot risk us being pursued. They will expect us to go straight toward the Americas. And so, we must do what they will not expect. We must stay one step ahead.”
“Where are we headed?”
“We shall travel further down the coast of Africa before sailing toward Brazil. The gap between land masses is far smaller there and we shall have a better chance of losing any ships who might be following us. Once we reach Brazil, we shall sail up the South American coast toward our destination.”
Noah shook his head. “That will add weeks to our voyage. We do not have the resources for such a journey, not after our failed excursion into Praia harbor. We barely managed to get replenishments on-board and what we have is paltry at best.”
“We shall have to ration and make do. You’ve been in situations like this before, Noah. I wouldn’t expect you to get all sheepish about a little undernourishment,” Benjamin teased, though his eyes remained cold. “After all, we shall eat like kings once we reach the shores of Brazil. It shall be a temporary discomfort for a grand reward.”
“And our guests?”
“Ah, so that is where your concern stems from, is it?”
“They are unused to such troubles. At least, Miss Faulks isn’t.”
“She shall have to make do. Survival is a potent motivator, Noah. She will be just fine if she wants to make it to America in one piece.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “And the storms that gather along this route, captain? Have you contemplated those? They are some of the worst in the seven seas and we shall be heading directly into them. Altering our course is a mistake—we ought to keep going straight and make a decision if those ships are spotted again. Pre-empting an attack that may never come is foolhardy, particularly when we are going to such lengths to avoid it.”
“Are you calling me a fool, Noah?”
“I am not, captain. I am simply trying to advise you against this risky journey. You and I have sailed through these tempests before and we have been lucky to escape with our lives and our ship more-or-less intact. That good fortune cannot last forever in weather like that and with so much at stake, I would urge you to reconsider.”
“We have discussed this without you. The decision is made,” Garrick interjected, his grizzled face covered in healing welts and bruises from his time strapped at the stern of the ship. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal the salted burns around his wrists where the ropes had dragged and pulled at his skin.
“And yet, I would urge you again—reconsider. Tell me, Garrick, have you encountered the storms that swell and rage between Africa and Brazil?”
He stared at Noah in defiance. “I have, as you well know.”
“Then how can you even suggest such a journey? We almost lost our lives the last time.”
Only, this time, we have so much more to lose. If Rachel does not make it to the Americas, I shall never forgive myself. She did not want to make this voyage in the first place for fear of being out on treacherous waters. And now, all of her nightmares are about to come true. Noah had faced the worst trials of his life the last time they had sailed in this direction.
A vivid memory sparked in his mind of dangling from the topsail as he’d tried to cut the sails free. All around him, waves as tall as mountains had risen up, dwarfing their vessel and threatening to drown every man on-board. The crashing roar had deafened him as the walls of water had barreled down with such force that it had almost broken the ship in two. How it had held together until the storm had subsided, he still did not know. They had been there but for the Grace of God. Truly, that fateful night, some divine hand had kept them from their watery graves. He was certain of that.
“It’s too late in the season for storms like that,” Garrick countered. “We’ll be fine. We’ve talked it over and we all agree it’s the best course of action. I don’t know this St. Vincent fella, but he doesn’t sound like a man who’ll take kindly to being crossed. It’s better to keep out of his way.”
“But we don’t know if it is them,” Noah urged.
Samson frowned. “Aye, but it’s a little odd that ships should leave so soon after we did, don’t you think?”
“From a busy port? No, I don’t think it is odd. I think we are simply being paranoid and it will only end badly for us if we pursue this altered route. Please, captain, change our course to the original mapping. I beg of you.”
“It’s like Garrick says, them storms will be long gone by the time we reach that far down,” Samson replied casually. He didn’t seem at all fazed by the prospect of entering treacherous territory.
“No, they won’t,” Noah shot back. “We are heading into the autumn season, which brings far worse winds with it. If we do this, captain, you are sentencing us to an agonizing few months, if the storms do not kill us first. On reduced rations, the sailors will be weakened and a ship requires its full strength to make it through weather such as that. This is folly, captain. Please, you have to see that.”
Benjamin glowered at Noah. “The decision has been made, Noah. You will not change my mind. I would rather face a thousand storms than have my ship raided by St. Vincent’s men. Do you understand me?”
Noah swallowed his words, realizing he was not going to get Benjamin to see any sense on this matter. He thought about changing the course himself—he could easily send the helmsman away for a short while, giving him a brief window of opportunity to turn the vessel around. However, he knew that would see him instantly thrown from the side of the ship as soon as Benjamin discovered what he was doing. He would not do that to Rachel. He would not leave her alone and unprotected on this ship, not with the likes of Garrick still roaming about.
Plus, once times began to get difficult and the food and water began to grow scarce, her animals would be the first on the hunting list. He would not watch her suffer through seeing them stalked and killed, not if he could help it. He would protect them, as he had sworn to protect her.
At least, he would try.
“Very well,” Noah said solemnly. “But let it be known that I told you this was a foolhardy plan.”
“Your opinion has been duly noted,” Benjamin replied coldly.
Balling his hands into angry fists, Noah turned around and strode out of the captain’s quarters. He heard their laughter follow him, but he did not care for their mockery. They could jeer all they liked. As soon as the Emerald sailed into those stormy waters, he knew he would see the smug smiles wiped from their faces.
I only hope that the cost to the rest of us is not too great.
Chapter Seventeen
In that fortnight that followed the dispute in the Captain’s quarters, Rachel remained none-the-wiser to the change in the voyage trajectory. Her days were spent seeing to the animals and making sure that Nan had everything she needed. Daily saltwater baths seemed to be helping the old woman with a blush of r
ose coming back into her cheeks and the former glint of mischief returning to her rheumy eyes.
Rachel was eternally grateful to have Nan back in better health, thanking the Lord each night for the gift of her friend’s continued life. For now, she truly thought of the old woman as a dear companion. So much so, that she felt a twinge of shame whenever she recalled the way she had responded to Nan upon their first meeting. Indeed, she had held such disdain in her heart for the old woman back then making her feel now as though that petulant attitude had belonged to a different version of herself entirely. One she no longer recognized in the face that stared back from the looking glass each morning.